Grey Skies
by xXxDay-ZxXx
Summary: Theodore Grey is a young business man who knows what he wants and doesn't stop until he gets it. Learning a lot about life from his father, he won't hesitate to do what needs doing and likes his life orderly and punctual. So when a young woman stumbles into his office for his assistant job, will he give her the job out of sympathy, turn her away... or does he have a secret plan C?
1. Avery Rose & Theodore Grey

**Yes, I know it is a semi-short chapter, but I'm working on lengthening out chapter two! :)**

* * *

Chapter One

_Avery_

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

Gazing at the woman before me, I couldn't tell if her giant desk made her look bigger or smaller. It definitely made her more intimidating, like she was waving five college degrees and some form of tenure in my face.

Resisting the urge so squirm, not only because it would be embarrassing and child-like, but also because I didn't want to teeter and fall off of my new professional black high heels that I'd bought particularly for the interview. My grey pencil skirt couldn't be any tighter around my thighs, and my ruffled white blouse with black belt showed off my slim figure while at the same time suffocating me like a python.

"Yes," I nodded once, trying not to let my voice break like I was a pre-pubertal teenage boy. "I'm here for the job interview for Theodore Grey's personal assistant?"

For a moment, the lady's icy blue eyes gazed down at me before she turned her head, her long nails tapping loudly on her computer's keyboard, giving me a quick view of her platinum blonde hair, pulled back incredibly tightly in a tiny bun. I'd never been able to figure out how someone got their hair into such a perfect bun.

Her captivating, scary eyes turned back to mine. "Take the elevator to the thirty-eighth floor, sixth floor on the right."

"Thank you," I smiled slightly and nodded once before heading for the elevator, half waddling in my tight skirt. The ride was long, silent and, for me, awkward, since there were about five other people in the elevator, only one female, and they were too professional to look anywhere but forward.

When I finally reached my floor, I was the only one left. Walking into the hall and then into the sixth floor on the right, I blinked at the room filled with at least twenty other men and women, dressed in similar colours to me. None of them looked up, reading the glossy magazines that I assumed weren't even theirs, since there were empty magazine holders on the coffee table in the centre of the room.

Since there were no free seats, I had to stand and wait until the man that had just been interviewed left and the next woman went in before there was somewhere for me to sit. It continued like that until I was the only one left, a tall woman with killer legs and a confident stride walked out, head held high and a smirk on her face – you could just tell she thought she was getting the job. But damn it, I'd paid more than I paid for my rent and bills that week on the outfit and _I_ was going to get the job.

"Next, please," called a deep voice.

_Deep breath, girl, in through your mouth, out through your nose. You're smart, you're funny, you're pretty – you can land this job._

I walked into the office with as much confidence as I could, but I nearly went into full gawk mode when I saw the interior. The walls were pure, gleaming white, reflecting the sunlight which poured in from the wall length, floor to ceiling window. The furniture was all varying shades of grey and it was just stunning.

And then there was the man standing behind his desk.

There were no words appropriate enough to describe his beauty. He was tall, with short copper hair and clear blue eyes that looked like they could pierce my soul. His skin was tanned, hinting that he had time to be out in the sun, and under his very expensive looking suit there were muscles that were big enough to be sexy but not so big that he looked like he was trying too hard. With high cheekbones, a squared jaw and wide eyes, he was just… magnificent… a man in his prime.

Once I finally made it to his desk, he gave me a kind smile and leaned forward, shaking my hand. I couldn't help but blush when my tiny hand disappeared in his massive grip, and his smile widened a fraction when he noticed too. Clearing his throat, he sat down in his chair and I did the same, crossing one leg over the other, thanking every God I could think of that my two-sizes-too-small pencil skirt didn't rip.

"I'm Theodore Grey," he told me with a polite nod. "But, since you're here to be my assistant, I hope you'd already know that."

"Oh, yes, of course I already knew that… sir…" I added in tentatively. "And I'm Avery. Avery Rose."

He nodded again. "That's a beautiful name," he complimented me, and then blinked, as if realising he'd said that only after he'd said it. Clearing his throat again, he shifted in his chair, looking ever so slightly uncomfortable.

_Jesus, I've only given the guy my name and he's already squirming. I'm never going to get the job…_

"Well," he looked back up at me with those shocking, beautiful eyes. "Why do you want to be my assistant, Avery?"

Sighing, I leaned forward in my chair, closer to him. "To be perfectly honest with you, I really need the money. When I read in the paper that the second richest man in Seattle needed an assistant I thought, what the hell? No harm in trying, right?"

He nodded, another smile beginning to grace his face. "Ah, I see… and who is the richest man in Seattle?"

"Your father, Christian Grey, of course," I blinked; stunned he'd ask such a thing.

"Ah, yes," the smile turned to a grin immediately. "I was hoping you'd say it was him. Otherwise I'd be facing new competition and my father, well, he's a sore loser."

"I see…" I murmured, not really sure where the interview was going.

Seeming to notice the same thing, Theodore brought the conversation back to work. "Do you have any experience in this area of work?"

"Well, for two years I was the editor of my school's newspaper, and for the past five years I've been working as an assistant to Lola Peterson at SIP editing, which I've only recently come to realise is owned by your father?"

He nods. "Yes, he does. Well, semi-owns it, with my mother," he added. "Those are quite impressive credentials for this job. I'm sure you've given your contact details and resume to Carla?"

I had no idea who he was referring to, which he seemed to realise by the look on my face.

"The blonde at the front desk? Really tight bun? Scary looking?"

"Ah, yes, the scary one," we shared a laugh. "Yes, she has everything you need to know."

"Well, I'll contact you," he stood and I followed, then he shook my hand. "Pleasure meeting you, Avery Rose."

"And the same to you, Theodore Grey."

* * *

_Theodore_

"How was your day, Teddy?"

It took me a minute to drag my eyes away from my Blackberry to look up at my mother, who was gazing at me expectantly. I knew that she got bored during the day with Dad at work, her at work at a different building, me in the same building as Dad, Autumn in Paris, Luke in highschool all day and Persephone off backpacking through Europe - even though she'd be back soon - sometimes it got annoying having to keep her entertained before the husband came home. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, but I do have my own life to live.

"Pretty good," I told her. "Interviewed some people for my new assistant job."

"Any good candidates?" she asked as she peeled open a banana, breaking off the end and dropping it in her mouth. She had a rule that she wouldn't put a full banana into her mouth and bit it off, because whenever she did, Dad would be incredibly inappropriate and make her face turn as red as a ripe tomato – and I knew because he did it in front of me without a care in the world. That's good parenting for you.

"There were a few. It was boring as hell, all of them dressed in grey and pencil skirts and their hair pulled back so tight it looked like it was self-Botox," I scoffed. "You should have seen this one girl though, Mom, she had on a skirt that was way too small and she had no idea how to tie up a bun. Her hair was everywhere."

"Oh…?" she asked, dragging out the word as she shifted closer. "Did you like that small-skirted messy-haired girl?

"Like her?" I arched an eyebrow, confused. "What do you mean?"

Her clear blue eyes, identical to mine, rolled exasperatedly in their sockets. "Did you think she's cute? Do you think you could pick her just for being so different and unprepared?"

"Well, you know, I do actually _need_ an assistant, Mom," I chuckled, standing up. "But thank you for trying to pry into my private and romantic life. Love you." After planting a kiss on her head, I grabbed my suitcase and headed out the door.

"Sleep tight, Teddy!" she called after me.

"My name is Theodore, Mom - you should know, you named me!"


	2. Nathaniel Scott

**I know it's probably not that much longer than chapter one, but you're just going to have to deal with that, aren't you?**

* * *

Chapter Two

_Avery_

"How're you doing, Nate?"

Nathaniel Scott was my stepbrother, but if anyone asked I told them we were full blood siblings. We even looked the part, with the same dark hair and green eyes, but our facial features weren't as similar.

He was a kind man, sweet to others and regularly volunteering his time to doing charity work, slaving away in kitchens and going door to door asking for donations for the cause. But alas, one day, he knocked on the door of a drug dealer and wanted criminal. He'd told me that all he remembered was knocking, the door opening, and then a gun was pointing at him. That was it.

When I'd gotten to the hospital, my brother was in a coma, which he remained in for three months. For the most part I never left his side and, thankfully, I was there when he woke. For a few hours we just talked, which is what the nurses had told me to do – they'd wanted me to keep his brain active and try not to let him go back to sleep.

Once they were confident he wouldn't slip back into that deep, deep sleep, he went through intense physical therapy, twice a day. Sometimes I was there to help, but most of the time I was either at work or trying to catch a class at university.

It became clear after a year that Nate was never going to fully heal. When he'd been jumped by the drug dealer, he'd not only been savagely beaten by both fists, feet and what seemed to be a plank of wood, but he was also shot in the chest, and in the lower back when he'd been kicked onto his front. It was a miracle he'd even survived, let alone had all the mental capacity that he had and still remained the person he'd been before the attack.

But he was paralysed from the waist down. Permanently.

"I'm alright – there's nothing good on television, though." He pouted.

Rolling my eyes, I opened the fridge and scanned the contents as my brother stared at the screen from his motorised wheelchair. "Put on a movie then, butthead."

"But all the good ones are on the top shelf!" he complained.

Turning around, the carton of milk in my hand, I glared half-heartedly. "I put those up there for a reason. You're not watching porn in my living room."

"What's the point of buying expensive porn if you can't even watch it?" he cried, but he was grinning too; he found it as funny as I did.

Placing the carton of dairy liquid down on the counter – Nate called it 'cow juice' when we were younger – I grabbed all the boy movies from the DVD cabinet and tossed them onto his lap. It was all 'Fast and the Furious' and Tom Cruise movies – what I assumed was guy stuff. He looked please with them as he flicked through.

"Wow, Aves. You got all these for me?"

"Happy birthday, big brother." I ruffled his hair before going back to the kitchen and pouring some 'cow juice' into a cup and then rummaging through the cupboards. "Hey, do we have any cookies?"

When there was no reply, I turned around, and then gasped in surprise when Nate was right in front of me, glaring up at me. Even though he only came up to my hips, the look in his eyes still intimidated me, and I felt scolded, like a teenager caught with a joint. Stepping back, I placed the cup down on the counter once again and looked at him, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"How much did these cost, Avery?" he hardly ever called me by anything other than 'Aves', so I knew he was serious even without his flat, low tone.

"Nate, don't. Really, it's not-"

"Avery!" he almost growled. "How much did it cost?" he pronounced each word excruciatingly slowly, as if he were explaining sharing to an unruly toddler.

I looked down at me shoes, admonished, and took a moment before I spoke again. "A hundred and thirty-seven… but Nate, they were on sale!"

"You can't do this, Avery!" he cried. "You know how much debt we're in! You can't spend almost a hundred and fifty dollars on a couple of movies!"

"I did it for you, Nate! You're so miserable, having to stay in this house six days a week! I wanted to do something nice for you, cheer you up!"

He looked stunned, and for a moment, I thought he'd realised what an act of kindness it really was. But, of course, he hadn't.

"What would cheer me up would be to see you debt free, Avery! And it's my fault!"

"No!" that was the straw that broke the camel's back. "For God's sake, Nate, I know that something horrifying and tragic happened to you, but you have to stop with this victim stuff! Stop being so nice about it! Yes, half of my debt is your medical bills, but did you go to that man's house _expecting_ to be beaten half to death and left in a wheelchair for the rest of your life? No! You're my handicapped brother; I'm supposed to take care of you. It may suck at times moneywise and bathroom wise, but I'm glad to do it, because that is what siblings do for each other!"

My brother stared up at me, shocked. I'd never yelled at him before, and I only brought up his chair and his handicap-ability in the most subtle and caring ways possible. I'd actually stunned myself, and I almost burst into tears when he reached his wheels and started rolling away from me.

Reaching over, I pulled the brake on his wheels and he glared up at me as I leaned over him.

"Please, Nate… I need you to understand that I can handle this, that I can do it on my own, and while I'm doing it I want you to enjoy your day, even if it means paying an absurd amount of money for some movies that you'll probably only watch once."

He sighed heavily. "How am I supposed to enjoy them when I know how much they cost…?" he asked quietly.

"We can watch them together?"

Smiling, he reached down and released the brakes, rolling towards the living room. "Only if you help me into the armchair!" he called.

* * *

_Theodore_

The annoying thing about having to hire an assistant is not having an assistant to help you find a good one. One of the never last things I wanted to do was sort through the mountainous stack of paperwork, each one of them boasting all different kinds of credentials that they thought made them perfect for the job, but somehow, I didn't want that. I didn't want a perfect assistant with the personality of a paperclip. I wanted someone interesting, someone that would spice up my day.

Which was why, whenever I looked at the photos on the resumes, I only saw Avery Rose.

She had looked flustered, unsure of herself, and messy when she waddled into my office. Her skirt had been atrociously small on her, her heels too high – she was already quite tall – and she looked like she was suffocating in her tight belt. Her _attempt_ at a bun was horrific, and it didn't appear that she had much knowledge of make-up. But she was different and, for the first time in what felt like my whole life, I wanted something different.

Reaching out, I pressed the button on my phone set that went directly to Carla at the front desk. There was a beep, and then her voice appeared.

"_What can I do for you, Mr Grey?"_

"Carla, I would like you to contact Ms Avery Rose. I've chosen her to be my new assistant."

There wasn't a pause but there was a slightly surprised tone in her voice. "_Of course, Mr Grey. Is there anything else you need for me to do for you?"_

"Uh… oh, yes, can you contact the other applicants and inform them that the position has been filled?"

_"Of course, Mr Grey."_

"That is all, Carla. Thank you."

"_My pleasure, Mr Grey."_

* * *

**And remember, my lovely readers, remember that more reviews mean faster updates. ****_  
_**


	3. First Day

Chapter Three

_Avery_

"Looking forward to your first day?"

Nate just grinned at my icy glare shot at him as we watched each other in the reflection of the mirror. My nerves were all over the place, my knees were shaking and my stomach trembled like it was full of a thousand butterflies. He knew me well enough to know when I was hungry, let alone when I felt like I was about to pass out with fear.

"Oh… shut up!" I snapped, unable to come up with a good quip in my state of distress.

I kept smoothing down my wrinkle-less skirt and my crisp white blouse. Instead of attempting a bun, I'd pulled my hair back into a tight ponytail. With small quantity of black eyeliner, a touch of mascara, a light amount of lip gloss and a dusting of blush, I felt like I looked natural, like I knew how to use makeup, but that I also wasn't trying too hard. Or that I looked like a poor person on the last bits of makeup she had, which I also was.

"How long does it take you to get there?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest.

"About fifteen minutes?"

"And how long until you need to be there?"

After adjusting my newly tailored skirt once more, I leaned over my bed, grabbed my iPhone and checked the time. "Umm… eighteen minutes! Shit!"

I grabbed my purse, shoved me phone inside, pecked Nate on the cheek then sprinted out the door and, after realising the elevator was out of order, zoomed down the stairs at a record pace. Thankfully, I'd called a taxi in advanced and only had to leap in.

"Go, go, go!"

"You know, if it were any other cab driver, he'd probably yell at you for being so rude and wave a gun at you until you got out."

"Probably," I laughed, shaking my head. "But you're not 'any other cab driver', are you Tanner?"

Tanner Smith, who'd been my friend for a few years, was happy to be my chauffer whenever I needed him – of course, I repaid him with drinks when we went clubbing. Now that I had a steady, professional job, I don't think I'd be doing much clubbing; showing up to work for a Grey with a hangover, I'd get the boot in two seconds flat – probably by Carla, the scary front-desk lady, before I even got to see Theodore.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Tanner grinned at me in the reflection of the rear view mirror. "So, Nate tells me you've landed a new job? Theodore Grey, he's a really big player in his business, isn't he?"

"Yes, yes he is." Colossal understatement.

"And… um…" I saw a faint blush spread across his face. "What _is_ his business?"

A grin spread across my lips at his embarrassment. Tanner, with his gorgeous dark curls, tanned skin and green eyes was a beautiful young man, but he didn't know much unless he'd overheard it from a conversation in the back of his taxi.

"He's in architecture, Tanner. He owns and builds half the new buildings that have been built here and in most of the other states."

He let out a long, low whistle. "I've seen those buildings. You should see all those business types that want to go there – all bland expressions, on their Blackberries, wearing the sharpest and most expensive suits I've ever seen."

"That doesn't surprise me," honestly, it didn't. After spending two minutes in the presence of other people qualified for the spot of Theodore Grey's personal assistant, it felt like a rock had sunk into my stomach. I'd been completely, absolutely certain that I was going to be laughed at and then kicked out on my ass.

The question that had been turning around and around in my head like a chicken on a rotisserie came back to the front of my mind again: _Why_ had_ Theodore picked me...?_

"Anddd…" Tanner drew out the word as he eased on the break until we'd come to a complete halt. "Here we are. Your carriage has arrive, milady."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I leaned forward, kissing his cheek – my lips making an embarrassingly loud smacking noise – and then leaping out of the car with my brief cases. After quickly making sure my hair was flat on my head and my skirt was smooth, I walked forward and into the building, bracing myself for my first day.

* * *

_Theodore_

Sasha smirked at me from the bed, completely naked and legs splayed as she watched me get dressed for the day. One of her fingers went to her hair and began to curl a lock around her finger, twisting it around and around.

"Are you _sure_ you have to go to work, baby?" she cooed, giving me her most seductive look.

With an eye roll and a grin, I finished putting on my tie and then strolled over to the beautiful woman sprawled on my satin sheets. "Unfortunately, my love, I _do_ have to go… you know, it's _my_ company, they do actually expect me to be there. But I always come back, don't I?"

"Yes…" she pouted, beginning to sulk. "But sometimes you come home late, and you smell like cheap scotch and terrible cigars."

"The terrible ones are the most expensive," I laughed and pecked her lips. "Not that I would know – I'm not the one that smokes them. That's the horrid, pompous men that come in demanding buildings from me."

"Whatever you say…" she huffed, rolling away from me and strolling casually over to the wardrobe, sashaying her hips in that sexy way she knew I loved. "I'll just be here… all on my lonesome…"

"I'll be back." I told her again, striding up behind her and kissing from her right shoulder, up her neck, and then nipping at her ear. We both enjoyed it when I did that, and thankfully she did not have her ears pierced. "Go hang out with those girlfriends of yours that you're always either bragging or whining about."

I only just managed to dodge a shoe as I ran from the room, laughing.

* * *

_Avery_

It wasn't long before I'd begun to loathe working for Theodore Grey. Within five minutes, eight different girls had sauntered over to my desk, all tall, leggy blondes, simply tossed papers on my desk without telling me what I was supposed to do. It was thankful it had all already been explained to me, quite clearly.

"Oh, my god…" I groaned as I sifted through the paperwork.

According to the quick briefing I'd gotten from Mr Grey – which was what I was supposed to refer to him as – I had to read each piece of paper, re-type it all into the computer as the whole thing had been faxed over – I wasn't even aware that people still owned fax machines – then e-mail it to Mr Grey before finally taking the whole file down two flights of stairs to the filing room where all the important paper documents were kept.

I mentally thanked whoever saint it was that decided that all the files could be handed in at the end of the day, instead of one at a time. My foot felt like it was going to snap in these ridiculous heels, but they were a necessity, and apparently part of some kind of 'uniform'.

Then again, if I paid close attention to the other girls around me, I could see that they all had on the same kind of shoes. I could also tell who was newer by how much they wobbled on said shoes as they walked.

The phone began to ring for the first time. After taking a deep breath and a quick mental pep talk to myself, I picked up and tried to keep my voice as professional as possible.

"Theodore Grey's office. Avery Rose speaking."

"It's me, Avery, Theodore."

"Oh…" I blinked. I hadn't expected that at all. "H-Hello, sir…"

I could hear his laughter over the line. "Don't worry; I'm not calling to yell at you – yet. I just wanted to find out if you were alright, if there was anything wrong? Any questions you need answered?"

"Um…" I racked my brain. "Are the heels a necessity?" the words spilled from my mouth before I could register I was saying it.

To my surprise, he laughed again. "If they're hurting your feet, just take them off. You can't see your feet from in front of your desk."

I felt like hitting myself in the face; why hadn't I thought of that? Quickly, I slipped off the shoes and sighed in relief as I ran my toes through the soft, cream carpet. "Thanks… that's a lot better."

"No problem," I could tell he was grinning. "The heels thing was actually my Dad's thing. Now that I'm saying it out loud, it sounds kind of gross."

"A little." I admitted with a shy giggle.

"Well, I'll leave you to it. I hope you're having a good day, Avery."

"Oh, wait, sir?" I finally found a question that I actually felt I needed the answer to. "Um… can I ask you… why exactly did you pick me? There would have been so many more qualified people there than me…"

The phone was silent for a moment and, just as I was about to check if the line had disconnected, Mr Grey spoke.

"I picked you because I liked you the most. You weren't like the others. You weren't clean cut, bland, boring. You looked like you had some life in you. And I really needed someone like that in my company."

"W-Wow…" I was stunned. "Thank you, sir…"

"Will that me all, Miss Rose?"

I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "Yes, sir."

"Alright. I'll be in soon."

"Have a good day, sir." I mumbled and he chuckled softly before hanging up.

Monique, another leggy blonde with the face of an angel strutted past, a nasty smirk on her face as she paused at my desk. "You know, you have to hand those in early on Wednesdays. That's _today._"

"I know that Monique. Actually, I was just about to call you to remind you to take your laxatives and stick your fingers down your throat after lunch."

For a moment she just stared at me, just as startled and appalled by what I'd said as I was, but then she huffed, tossed her golden hair, tipped her nose in the air and stalked off. A bit of pride welled in my chest and I grinned.

Hopefully she'd spread the word that I wasn't going to be taking any crap any time soon.


	4. Persephone Grey

**I feel annoyed because which ever way I try to say something on this, someone is annoyed or offended with how I say it. So I'm just saying this.  
**

**I do write for the enjoyment of it, but there's nothing wrong with wanting some actual acknowledgment that you liked it. Because I _do_ work hard to make sure that a large amount of the readers on here will like it, and I want to know if I'm actually doing a good job. I'm sorry if that's makes me an asshole, but I really don't care any more.  
**

* * *

Chapter Four

_Avery_

It wasn't long before I fell into the rhythm of things at work – my fingers memories the placement of the letters on my keyboard, so I could just read the text and type it at the same time without having to glance at the computer screen to check if I'd made any mistakes. Of course, sometimes I had made a mistake, but that was easily fixable.

Everyone else backed right off from me, though Monique would glare at me when we saw each other or passed in a hallway. Instead of striking fear into me, it made me grin and giggle. The hostility in her gaze reminded me of how strong I'd been, how I stood up for myself. Pride swelled in my heart at my own words. I was a badass.

During my fourth week of working, Mr Grey called me again. Picking up the receiver immediately, I smiled as I answered.

"Yes, Mr Grey?"

"Miss Rose, could you run an errand outside of the office for me?"

I blinked. It was rare that I ever left during office hours, and that was usually for Mr Grey's coffee. "Sir?"

"My sister needs help with something, but I can't leave this meeting. Could you help me out?"

"O-Of course, sir… that's my job. So, where am I going?"

I grabbed the blue biro from beside the stack of Post-It notes I had sitting next to the phone that I used mostly for messages and scrawled down the address Mr Grey told me.

"I'll take care of that, sir. Have a good day."

"You too, Miss Rose." He hung up.

* * *

"Thank you again for this, Tanner."

"Hey, as long as you buy me drinks every Sunday, I'll drive you wherever you want to go, sugar," he chuckled as I slid into the back seat. "So, where am I going?"

With a laugh, I handed him to Post-It note. He was one of the few that could actually read my handwriting.

"What do you need to go there for?"

"Why? What is it?"

He turned to look at me, confused. "What, you don't know where you need to be going?"

"Mr Grey called me and told me to go there, help out his sister."

"Oooh…" he nodded, turning back the right way 'round.

"What?" I frowned as I buckled myself in. "What is it?"

He chuckled as he twisted the keys in the ignition, causing the engine to rumble to life. "It's a recording studio. 'Grey Records'."

"Huh…" I leaned back as Tanner pulled out from his parking spot and drove down the street. "I didn't even know he had a sister, let alone a recording studio in the family."

"Oh, yeah, he's got two sisters and a brother."

"Really?"

He rolled his eyes at me in the rear view mirror's reflection. "You really don't know this guy at all, do you? Well, this is the order his parent's had their kids: Theodore, Persephone, Autumn and then little Luke. Persephone is the record store owner. Sometimes Autumn is there. Luke's still in high school."

"You really know a _lot_ about the Greys don't you?"

"Why yes, little miss, I do. All I do is sit around and read newspapers and sometimes even magazines between fares."

Shaking my head in amusement, I just gazed out the window, watching Seattle go by. We went to the other side of the city, to a building like the one Mr Grey designed – obviously different than all the surrounding buildings, standing out with its beautifully modern exterior.

"Here we are: Grey Records."

"Thanks, Tanner. Can I call you when I'm ready to go?"

"Sure thing, sugar." He grinned, blushing gently when I kissed his cheek again, a little too close to his mouth, accidentally. I ducked my head and jumped out of the cab, hopefully before he noticed my flaming cheeks, and headed over to the door of the building. A smile formed on my lips when I heard him honk as he drove away.

I pressed the button beside the door, thinking it was a door bell of some kind. After a moment, a voice came out of a speaker on the wall that I hadn't noticed until then.

"Who're you?"

After working for direct and sometimes cold Mr Grey, I was used to people not using any pleasantries.

"I'm Avery Rose. I'm here on behalf of Theodore Grey."

"That bastard…" she growled, and then there was a click as the door unlocked.

After giving a small smile at the camera I could see recording me I pushed the door open and stepped in. When I went to close the door behind me, it automatically swung shut, surprising me – it nearly took off my hand.

"Down the hall, third door on the right!" I heard the same voice from the door speaker call to me.

Following the disembodied voice's instructions, I opened the third door on the right, blinking as I walked into an office.

There was a woman perched on a stool in the corner, a folder resting on her legs, one of which was folded over another, a pen tucked on top of her ear, a coffee on the small table beside her, her thumb tapping out a message on an iPhone 5. Her hair, a stunning chestnut brown fell straight to her shoulders, glimmering gently in the bright lighting.

When she looked up at me, I could instantly tell that she was related to Theodore. Her eyes were the mirror image of his; clear, bright blue. They are extraordinary, guileless, powder-blue, and under her gaze I feel exposed and nervous, like she's reading my thoughts. She looked both professional and scary as she stared at me through her glasses, magnifying her eyes, enhancing each blink, showing the flutter of each of her eyelids.

"So you're the one my brother sent for me? You look a lot better in colour than in black in white."

At my confused face, she gestured her head in the direction of her desk, where a few small flat screen televisions were placed against the wall, each showing a different part of the studio, the first of the front door. They were all in black and white.

"Uh, yes," I nodded, looking back at her, stepping forward and holding my hand out to shake hers. "As I said before, I'm Avery Rose."

For a moment she just stared at my hand, surprised, and just as I was about to do the awkward scratch-my-head-after-being-denied-a-handshake thing, she reached out and pressed her hand against mine, shaking it twice before dropping it.

"I'm Persephone Grey. And yes, that's my birth name. It was going to be Phoebe, but thank god my Aunt Kate talked some sense into my parents." She rolled her eyes before standing up. "So, why is it that my big brother can't make the time to visit me, his little sister?"

"He has an important meeting with one of his clients. He asked me to help you instead."

Persephone laughed. "Oh, that man…" she shook her head, taking a gulp from her coffee – it looked like it had gone cold, as it was no longer steaming. She placed it back down, tossing the clip board onto her desk and standing, brushing off her skinny jeans. "Well, I had actually wanted to record my brother singing."

"A…-And he sent _me_ to do that for him?"

"Apparently so… Can you sing?"

"I… I don't know…"

Persephone rolled her eyes. Stepping forward, she grasped my hand and dragged me into the hall and one door down, into what was obviously a recording room. There was a microphone hanging from the wall and a pair of head phones.

"Well, go on then." She released my hand before pushing me forwards, in front of the recording instruments. "Put the headphones on, wait for my signal, and then just start singing.

Nervously, I reached out and picked up the head phones. They were surprisingly heavy in my hands, but I still slipped them onto my head. Persephone nodded, satisfied, then stepped out of the room, closing the door.

Twenty seconds later she was standing on the other side of a pane of glass that made up most of the wall in front of me. She pressed a button and then started speaking. The words came to me half a second after she said them, so it was a little bit strange.

"Alright, Avery, take a deep breath in. Think of a good song, and then just let it out."

"Okay…" I nodded. Closing my eyes, I thought about a good song. Once I was sure I could remember all the lyrics, I took in a deep as breath as I could. Nerves crackled through my body, but I managed to hold myself still and then, finally, I began to sing.

* * *

_Theodore_

"You know, next time your horny, can't you just wait until I come back from work?" I asked Sasha as I re-zipped my jeans. "I had a meeting with my sister that I had to cancel for this."

"Oh, stop your sulking," Sasha rolled her eyes, wrapping her arms around my neck from behind, her breasts against my back, and she kissed my cheek. "You loved it, don't deny it."

"Alright, alright," I laughed, twisting in her arms so that we were face to face. "I _did_ love it."

She smirked triumphantly. "And do you love _me_?"

"More than any man has ever loved his wife." I told her. She giggled before kissing me deeply.

I was a horrible husband for actually having doubts on whether or not my last statement was completely true.


End file.
